AsSorted Marauders
by Jelsemium
Summary: A two shot about the Mauraders arriving at Hogwarts.Chapter One: Remus meditates on a possibly fatal oversight.Chapter Two: James is homesick.
1. Remus Lupin's Last Meal

As-Sorted Marauders

Chapt. 1: Remus Lupin's Last Meal

By Jill Weber/Jelsemium

Characters owned by J.K. Rowling and used without permission or intent to make a profit.

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His stomach was tied up in so many knots that he didn't think he'd be able to eat at the Welcoming Feast, anyway. Well, that took care of that problem, but what about the rest of the year? Remus was going to die. He just knew it. After all the plans his parents had made with Dumbledore, they'd overlooked this… this minor detail, and so he was going to die.

'Deep breath, Remus,' he told himself. 'Pull yourself together and you'll get through it. You just have to think.' Thinking about food made his stomach growl. Wonderful, he _was _hungry enough to eat at the feast. What was he going to do now?

'Don't panic, Remus, there's bound to be some sort of finger food,' he told himself. Then he sighed. 'Great. Seven days times four weeks, minus three days, times ten months, times seven years of eating with your fingers. Right, nobody will notice. I'm _sure _not _one _of the other students will wonder why I never touch the silverware!' He sighed. 'And I'm sure that the Chudley Cannons will win the championship."

He had never even thought about dining utensils until he had overheard somebody's parent warning him against stealing the silverware. Then he'd spent the first part of the train ride trying to convince himself that it had been a figure of speech. He'd failed miserably.

"Firs' years, this way! Firs' years! All Firs' years this way!"

Remus followed the rest of the first years to the source of the voice, gawping for a moment at the formidably large man who was speaking. Maybe he should worry less about what he was going to eat and more about what was going to eat him! The giant saw him staring and gave a friendly wink. Remus managed to grin back. Looked like he wasn't going to get eaten, after all. Back to worrying about the original problem.

Crossing the black lake in the dark gave Remus the creeps. Then, he got his first glimpse of Hogwarts, shining like a constellation brought to Earth. Remus' dazzled brain immediately conjured up poetic similes about bright hope versus black despair.

They were met in the hall by a formidable looking witch who informed them that they were to be sorted into their houses. Remus didn't have any idea of what that entailed, but the loud, black haired boy in front of him seemed convinced that it involved eating fire. Good, eating fire didn't involve silverware, so he'd be safe for the rest of this evening.

Unfortunately, the black haired boy, who's name seemed to be Black, was wrong. All they had to do was try on a shabby, talkative hat. Sigh. That meant the silverware business was back on. Remus wondered what silver poisoning tasted like, anyway. Would he even be able to taste the food as it killed him?

'No, stick to the plan. Finger food only.' Sigh. 'Breakfast will be the worst. What can I have besides dry toast? Maybe I can just sleep through breakfast everyday?' He winced at the very thought. Normally he was a morning person. 'Maybe I can get down before anybody else and… wolf… my food down?'

"Lupin, Remus."

Remus tried to force his heart from his throat as he approached the Sorting Hat. One part of his mind told him that if he choked to death right now, then he wouldn't have to worry about the silverware, would he? Of course, the whole reason for worrying about the silverware was because he DIDN'T WANT TO DIE!

The moment the Hat was settled on his head, it began to speak. "Well, what have we here? A werewolf in Hogwarts? Wouldn't have happened when Dippet was headmaster."

Remus clenched his eyes tightly shut against the tears. He should have known that…

"Nice to know that even Hogwarts can be improved."

'Improved?' Remus thought timidly. He opened his eyes, but the inside of the hat told him nothing.

"Of course, improved," The Hat informed him. "After all, it would have been a _shame _to not educate a fine mind like yours."

'Oh, thank you.'

"You are quite welcome, my boy. Now, where to put you?"

Remus winced again as the Sorting Hat ruminated. "I'm a dark creature, shouldn't I be in Slytherin?" Remus asked mournfully.

"You're _ambitious _enough to be in Slytherin, that much is clear by the fact that you yearn for a proper education. Not something your average monster would even consider wanting. Still, you have a good enough mind for Ravenclaw, and you certainly _work _hard enough for Hufflepuff. Just coming here proves that you have the _courage _to be in Gryffindor. Oh, my, what a dilemma! You would probably be happy in whatever house I put you in."

"Sorry," Remus felt guilty about causing the Sorting Hat undo strain.

"Not to worry, this is the most fun I've had since Albus Dumbledore was sorted. Give me a minute."

Remus waited with as much patience as he could muster. The rest of the Great Hall was waiting with as much noise as they could muster. He could hear that Black boy starting a pool on how long it would take the Sorting Hat to decide on this one.

The Sorting Hat snorted. "And here I thought I'd never meet a child louder than Rubeus Hagrid."

"Who?"

"The tall gentleman who took you across the lake."

"Oh, he was a student here, too?"

"Of course!. But, back to business." The Sorting Hat fell silent again. "I think the question here is not which house _you _would be happy with, but which house would be happy with _you_? Should your secret be discovered, there could be serious consequences."

'Oh, great, back to the silverware question.'

"Slytherins might take you to their bosom… or use you for target practice. Ravenclaws are the most likely to figure out what you are, based on what they've been learning. Intellectually, of course, they'd know that your curse is not of your choosing, but I'm afraid they wouldn't be all that friendly toward you. Hufflepuffs are sweet, but I'm afraid their constitutions might suffer a terrible shock should they find a werewolf in their midst. That makes it obvious that your house must be… GRYFFINDOR!"

"You're sure?" Remus asked shyly.

"Trust me, if the Gryffindors ever find out what you are, they'll be thrilled."

Remus hesitated.

"If you don't believe me, ask the dishes," the Sorting Hat said in amusement. "Run along now, I have half the alphabet to finish sorting."

Remus managed to get from the stool to the Gryffindor table without falling down. "Welcome to Gryffindor!" boomed a boy with such bright red hair that it made Remus' eyes hurt. "I'm Daniel Weasley."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Remus Lupin."

"Hey, Daniel, have you noticed the table settings?" another redhead shouted from farther down the table. "_Somebody's _hippogriff must have come in!"

Remus looked down at table and his eyes went as wide as galleons. The plates, the goblets… even the flatware… were gold: beautiful, elegant, and completely-harmless-to-werewolves gold. 

He jerked his gaze up to the Headmaster's table. Albus Dumbledore saluted him with a golden goblet. Suddenly, Remus understood the Hat's cryptic comments about 'asking the dishes' and about the Gryffindors loving him if they found out what he was. Former Gryffindor Dumbledore had never been appalled by him, only by his fate. His parents had never been afraid to love him. Who knows? Maybe he'd even make some friends here.

He lifted his golden goblet to return Dumbledore's salute.


	2. James Potter's Comforting Thought

As-Sorted Marauder's

Chapt. 2 -- James Potter's Comforting Thought

By Jill Weber/Jelsemium

Disclaimer: This story use J.K. Rowling's characters without permission or intent to make a profit.

Dedicated to: Alarum, Jen, auroraziazan, Sunpixie, Chary, Ozma, A.L. de Sauveterre, Green Eyed Lady and werechick for reviewing Chapter One!

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James stared, dry eyed, out the train window at a world gone cold and grey. The eleven year old boy wasn't familiar with the word 'irony,' but he was now acquainted with the concept. For the last couple of years he'd been longing to go off to Hogwarts. Now, all he wanted was to go home.

__

Tap, tap, tap… "Well, would you look at that! Won't your father be pleased when he gets home! We'll have your favorite dinner tonight! And treacle tart for desert!"

"Something from the cart, dearie?" a slender witch with a kind smile was at the door. James shook his head. "No, thank you," he said with drilled in good manners. "I'm not hungry."

The food cart witch's eyes were pools of sympathy. She'd seen dozens of homesick children over the years. "Well, if you change your mind, dearie, I'll be up front with the driver."

"Yes'm," James sighed. He'd lied to his Mum. He told her that he'd eat something on the train, but he just couldn't bring himself to try. He went back to staring out the window.

__

Dad worked late that night. Long hours was the bad side of being a mediwizard.

"Can I wait up for him, Mum? Please?"

"No, Jamesie, it's late and all good little boys should go to sleep…"

Two boys, one lean and black haired, the other plump and fair haired, burst into his compartment.

"Whoa, almost got caught that time," the black haired boy laughed. "Here, have a chocolate frog."

The fair-haired boy accepted. James, not realizing he was included in the invitation, stared silently out the window.

The black haired boy nudged him. "Oi, you hungry? Want a frog?" he held up a box. "Good for whatever ails you."

James gave him a steady look. "No." was all he said.

The black haired boy blinked his pale blue eyes and looked at his friend. The fair-haired boy just shrugged. "Every flavor bean?" the black haired boy said. "I mean, not every flavor, just a few of them."

James shook his head again and looked out the window.

"I'm Sirius Black. This is Peter Pettigrew."

"James Potter."

"You hungry? We can get you something," the blond boy, Peter, said. He sounded anxious, but James didn't look. 

"No, thank you," he said absently.

The other two boys continued talking, but James had stopped listening to them. In his mind he was back home…

__

Good little boys? Well, that left him out, didn't it? James was in bed, but wide awake. He had his coreless baby wand with him. It used to shoot off sparks, but James had worn it out until all it gave off now was a soft glow, too dim to be seen outside his room, but enough light to read by.

Tonight he wasn't reading his Quidditch comics, he was rereading the letter that had arrived only hours ago.

"Dear Mr. Potter, we are pleased to inform you…"

After a while, the boys left. A few minutes later, the door opened again. "Is it all right if I sit in here?" a female voice asked. "Everywhere else is crowded." 

James nodded without looking around.

A few more voices joined the first girl, but James didn't pay any attention. Unlike the earlier intruders, the girls seemed to understand that he needed to be left alone.

__

Dad would be so proud. He'd told James all about Hogwarts and how much fun it had been. Dad's stories were even better than Quidditch comics!

James blinked when he heard a tap on the front door. Had Daddy forgotten the key spell? Oh, how funny! James slid out from his bed. He'd sneak down to see what Mum had to say about this. Then, he'd run over to his father and they'd both laugh. Mum would scold them both, but she'd laugh, too.

He paused on the stairs, out of sight of the door, as Mum went to answer. He madly wanted to show his Dad the letter…

"Mrs. Potter? Mrs. Tiberius Potter? The Ministry regrets to inform you…"

But he'd never get the chance. His Dad had been treating the victims of a black magic attack when the criminals had burst into St. Mungo's to silence the witnesses. Naturally, Dr. Potter had tried to defend his patients.

The train ride went by in a blur. The marauding boys would barge in every so often to offer treats all around, or to tease the girls, or to just make a nuisance of themselves. James barely noticed when the red-headed girl finally lost her temper "Leave him alone! Can't you see he wants to be alone!" she shrieked, eyes and wand sparking dangerously as chased the boys out for good.

He followed the other first years to the boats, too apathetic to notice Black's attempts to scare the redhead with tales of fire-eating rites of passage. He knew what was waiting for them… the Sorting Hat, just like his Dad had described it.

He paid no attention to the sorting, until a sharp-featured, sallow skinned boy poked him. "Are you Potter? It's your turn!"

James walked up to the stool and Prof. McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

"Well, now, I'm sorry to hear about your father, dear boy," the Hat said in sympathetic tones. "He would have been proud that you were accepted in Hogwarts."

"Thank you," James said. "But I don't want to go to Hogwarts anymore. I want to go home." His eyes stung and he squeezed them shut. He couldn't go home, he didn't have one anymore.

"You will always have a home where people love you," the Hat said calmly. "And your mother will always love you."

James bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. "No, s-she doesn't… not any more."

"You are mistaken. I can see how you can misinterpret her reactions, but I remember your mother well. She has the heart of a Hufflepuff. It's only _pain_ that makes her seem so cold and distant right now. She does still love you."

James swallowed. "Are you sure?" he asked forlornly.

"I am sure," the Hat said firmly. "As I am sure that will do well here. There is healing in these halls as well as learning. And you might be surprised to find that many people here already care for you."

A memory popped to the front of James mind, like someone had pulled it out of a hat. He remembered the redhead who had chased out the aggravating pair. He also remembered the antics of the two boys and suddenly realized why they had kept coming back to his compartment. They'd been trying, in their own clumsy way, to cheer him up.

"I… thank you," James said. "I just wish I could see him, just once more."

The Hat's voice became warmer. "Now that _is_ something I can help you with. Close your eyes."

James squeezed his eyes tighter and held his breath. "No, don't hold your breath. Breathe, gently, now."

James took a shallow breath, and suddenly… it was the same Great Hall, with the enchanted ceiling he hadn't even noticed on his way in. There was a short line of students still waiting to be sorted. There was no way to tell what time period it was; the Hogwarts' uniform hadn't changed substantially in over a thousand years. However, James thought he recognized one boy with close cropped black hair and laughing grey eyes.

"Potter, Tiberius," Deputy Headmaster Dumbledore read from the scroll.

Tiberius Potter bounced to the stool, and James could see the hat sliding over his eyes. Then… oh, bliss… he could _feel_ his father all around him like a warm hug. He could feel his father's excitement at being at Hogwarts and the way Tiberius' stomach was alternately rumbling with hunger and twisting with nervousness.

On a deeper level, beyond what he could have ever imagined, he felt other things about his father: His love of life, his eagerness to learn, his desire to make friends, his sympathy for his fellow, homesick first years. And underlying all of that, the way a skeleton lies under the skin and bones…

Before he could fully identify the feeling, James was back in his own head. "Is that, was that… courage?" James whispered in awe. "Was my father _brave_?"

"Yes, my boy," the Hat said. "He was intelligent, and kind, and loyal, but most of all, he was brave. You are very much like him, in fact. You two would have been great friends, had you attended school together."

"Thank you," whispered James and he reached up to remove the Hat.

"Hang on there, don't you want to know what house you're in?" the Hat sounded amused.

"Oops."

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the sorting hat.

James took the hat off and took a deep breath. He was like his father? He and his father would have been great friends? With that comforting thought, James Potter went to sit down at the Gryffindor table.

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A/N:

Alarum, Jen, auroraziazan, Sunpixie – Thanks for the kind words! (And extra thanks to auroraziazan for directing Green Eyed Lady here!)

Chary, Ozma, A.L. de Sauveterre – Thanks for letting me know which lines you particularly liked. I'm glad that my characterization seemed right to you!

Green Eyed Lady: Thanks for pointing out the overuse of 'timidly.' No, I didn't say how Remus knew there'd be silverware. As you can see, I've fixed the first chapter.

Thanks to werechick for the schnoogles! I liked the 'ask the dishes' line, too!


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